


True True Love (And Other Disasters)

by dollsome



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 05:38:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollsome/pseuds/dollsome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Princess Vivian comes back to Camelot to claim her one true love Prince Arthur. Things get silly, and Arthur and Merlin are forced to concoct an elaborate charade. In which they're in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This plot struck me while contemplating potential Arthur/Merlin fake dating scenarios, and it's so obvious that I kinda suspect a few versions of this story must exist somewhere already. :D But ah well! Here's another! Because I really, really delight in all things Princess Vivian.
> 
> There will be a few more chapters to come after this one!

One day, entirely without warning, Princess Vivian returns to Camelot.

 

To be more specific, she shows up in the dead of night, takes out every guard and knight in her path with a series of fancy kicks and perky war cries, and rouses Arthur from his good night’s sleep.

 

Merlin happens to be in the room at the time; he was startled out of that nice pre-sleep fuzzy brained feeling by the realization that Arthur is out of clean socks. As such, he’s scrambling around the room gathering up all of Arthur’s dirty socks when Vivian makes her entrance.

 

Clean socks swiftly become the least of anybody’s problems.

 

“Hello, my love!” Vivian trills, folding her arms over her chest and revealing that they are distinctly more toned than last time they saw her. (Her arms, that is, not her ... well. Those look nice too.) She’s dressed in breeches, a black cloak, and a rose pink blouse. Merlin can’t help but think that she looks rather dashing. “Have you missed me?”

 

Arthur can do nothing besides gape at her and rub a hand over his sleep-mussed hair.

 

“Lady Vivian,” he manages at last. “I—I—”

 

“Love you?” Vivian suggests sweetly.

 

“No!” Arthur says. The royal prat definitely isn’t on his game yet. He realizes his mistake quickly. “I mean. Uhhhh. That’s not to say you’re not looking ... lovely, because you are.”

 

“Dashing, I thought,” Merlin contributes, figuring it can only help.

 

“Yes, that’s just it. Dashing. Thank you, Merlin. Wait. _Mer_ lin? What are you doing here? You haven’t been watching me sleep _again_ , have you?”

 

“No, I haven’t,” Merlin says quickly, feeling his face heat up. “And that last time, that wasn’t because I wanted to be watching you sleep. ‘Cause I don’t. No, that was all because of ...”

 

Magic, but he can’t very well say that.

 

“Well?” Arthur says impatiently.

 

“... you snore,” Merlin finishes abruptly. “It’s not healthy. Bad sinuses.”

 

“I do not snore.”

 

“You really do.”

 

“ _Mer_ lin. I do not. SNORE.”

 

“You really do, though.”

 

“Shut up!” Vivian thunders.

 

Arthur and Merlin fall silent.

 

“There,” she says, tittering. “Good.”

 

It occurs to Merlin then and there that he should probably be afraid.

 

Vivian invites herself into Arthur’s bed, bouncing down onto the foot of it and then crawling up beside him. “Now, my dearest, darlingest prince, haven’t you missed me? I know I’ve missed you! Why, I haven’t thought of anything else in absolute years! And do you know, for the first several months after our cruel parting, all I did was mope. Mope, mope, mope. Very prettily, mind you, but still! It got so _boring_! ‘When will Arthur come to me? When will my love remember me?’ and so on and so forth. I got very good at doing this.”

 

She sighs dramatically and swoons onto Arthur’s shoulder, draping a hand over her forehead.

 

Arthur scrambles out away from her and nearly topples off the bed.

 

“Not a very substantial shoulder there, is it?” Vivian says, wrinkling her nose judgmentally at Arthur’s shoulder.

 

Merlin snorts.

 

Arthur massages his shoulder, offended, while Vivian continues her monologue. “But then I realized I was going about it all wrong. Love isn’t about waiting around for your happy ending to happen to you! You have to go out and _grab it_ with your bare and perfectly manicured hands!!” She mimes grabbing the air. Violently. Arthur flinches. “And so I spent a year training with my father’s knights; they were a little reluctant at first, but they learned early on not to cross me! Do you know, people are forever learning not to cross me. Hmm. Isn’t that funny? Anyway. _You_ —” Vivian pokes Arthur’s nose, “—are my happy ending, Arthur Pendragon, and here I am! Grabbing you!”

 

And she does grab him. Enthusiastically.

 

“You can’t just _grab_ me,” Arthur protests futilely, trying to escape. “I’m prince of Camelot. I have responsibilities in this kingdom that demand my foremost attention. I’m going to be king one day!”

 

“And I’m going to be queeeeeen!” Vivian sings right into his ear, up until Arthur clamps a hand over it.

 

“Vivian, I assure you, I’m deeply flattered, but I simply cannot reciprocate your feelings,” Arthur says firmly. “I sort of have a ...”

 

“AHEM, AHEM, AHEM,” Merlin says, doing his best to produce a sudden coughing fit. There’s no way bringing Gwen into this situation is a good idea.

 

Luckily, Arthur realizes the same thing. “... vow. Not to fall in love until I’ve ... become the best person I can be.” Merlin winces at the lousy excuse, and Arthur replies with a _Well, what should I have said, genius?_ expression that’s frankly a little offensive.

 

“You can claim not to love me all you like,” Vivian says, untroubled. “It doesn’t change the fact that you’re coming with me. You’ll realize how much you love me in time! Either way, we’re getting married as soon as we possibly can. We must get started on our little blonde babies!”

 

“You can’t just kidnap a prince,” Arthur protests.

 

“Oh, but I’m pretty sure I can,” Vivian replies.

 

Arthur springs out of bed and assumes a defensive stance. “I warn you, my lady. I’ve been trained to kill since birth.”

 

Merlin groans inwardly. You’d think he would have come up with a new line by now.

 

“Well, you certainly haven’t been trained to flirt,” Vivian replies, unimpressed.

 

“Hey!” Arthur frowns. “You said you loved me.”

 

“I do love you. Always and forever, madly, dizzyingly, with the pure bold fire of a thousand suns.” She pauses to look Arthur up and down, her nose scrunching up disdainfully. “But I’m not an idiot.”

 

Arthur looks rather affronted.

 

“You’re coming with me and that’s that,” Vivian finishes perkily.

 

“I will not hurt you, Princess,” Arthur says, a warning in his voice.

 

“No,” Vivian agrees, “you won’t,” and hoists Arthur up over her shoulder like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

 

Merlin knows this isn’t the time for delighted laughter, but. Well.

 

Meanwhile, Arthur flails. “What? What are you – this is just – hey! Put me down!”

 

“Nope,” Vivian says serenely. “If you’re going to behave like a child, then I’m going to treat you like one.”

 

“Why—are—you—so—strong—? And where are all the guards? Guards!!”

 

“Where true love is involved, a girl can do anything. Including incapacitate one silly little group of knights. Now come along, darling! We’ve got to find the perfect place to be married. Not here, obviously. I’m _still_ bored from my last visit to your sad little kingdom.”

 

“You mean the visit where you met me, your true love, and your life was forever altered?” Arthur asks rather blandly. “You were bored then?”

 

Vivian is unaffected. “Your castle is _very_ drafty.”

 

“Fine,” Arthur says after a long time. “I will go with you peacefully, and not because I’m afraid of you.”

 

“You’re a little afraid,” Vivian says knowingly.

 

“Am not.”

 

“Are too.”

 

“Am not!”

 

“Are too!”

 

“Am not—” Arthur realizes just what he’s up to, gives up the competition, and says, “At least let me bring Merlin.”

 

“What’s Merlin?” Vivian asks. Judging by the look on her face, she doesn’t have very high expectations.

 

“He’s Merlin.” Arthur points. “My servant.”

 

Vivian throws over a long, scrutinizing gaze. Despite himself Merlin starts to feel nervous.

 

“All right,” she says at last with an unimpressed shrug. “But I hope you know his ears _are_ rather big.”

 

“Believe me, I know,” Arthur says gravely. Merlin makes a face at him. “Would you, er. Be so kind as to set me down so I can dress, please?”

 

“If you insist,” Vivian sighs, lowering him. “But _I_ get to watch.” She giggles gleefully.

 

Arthur stares up at the ceiling like he’s begging it to pull him up out of the situation at hand. The ceiling does not oblige.

 

Sighing, Arthur commands, “Merlin, get me a fresh pair of socks.”

 

“Um,” Merlin says. “About that ...”

 

And so a new adventure begins, with no clean socks to speak of.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well now, this continues to be entirely silly. :)

Vivian binds their wrists with ropes and drags them along like puppies through (very dark) hill and dale. Merlin tries to sever the ropes with magic right away, but it’s no good; they just glow an ominous gold color and remain obstinately, well, rope-like.

 

“Thank God Morgana wasn’t awake to see this,” Arthur mutters. “She probably would have smirked her face off. Have you noticed she’s been particularly smirky lately?”

 

“Er, yeah,” Merlin says nonchalantly. “Wonder what that’s about.”

 

“Who knows with girls?” Arthur says, staring rather despairingly up ahead at Vivian. She’s singing to herself and skipping along at an impractically speedy pace. Whenever Arthur and Merlin start to lag behind, she pulls on the ropes to make them keep up with her. Hard.

 

It’s not that Merlin doubts Vivian’s capable of terrifying feats of strength on her own. He really doesn’t. But he’s starting to wonder about the long term effects of this love spell.

 

“What are you muttering about back there?” Vivian calls. “It better be about how much you looooove meeeee, Arthurpoo!”

 

“Arthurpoo,” Arthur mutters to himself, looking nauseated.

 

“That’s quite good, actually,” Merlin says fairly.

 

Arthur stomps on his foot.

 

 

+

 

 

When Vivian finally gets tired, she ties Merlin and Arthur to a tree, curls up into a rather adorable ball on the ground, and falls asleep.

 

“You know, this is all your fault,” Arthur declares over Vivian’s dainty snores.

 

“My fault??”

 

“Yes, Merlin. Your fault.”

 

“And how do you figure that, sire?”

 

“If you had washed my socks like a good servant, I would have the energy that comes from wearing a fresh pair of socks instead of a dirty old pair. That energy, in turn, would have inspired me to find a swift and ingenious way out of this situation.”

 

Merlin considers this argument for a moment, then replies, “Yeah, I’m pretty certain it’s your fault. You’re the one she’s in love with.”

 

“I didn’t ask her to be in love with me!” Arthur howls so loud it sets all the birds in the forest aflight. His eyes are about the size of plates, and his hair is sticking up at mad angles.

 

“Maybe you should try to be less irresistible,” Merlin suggests helpfully.

 

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur grumbles.

 

Just this once, Arthur looks so pathetic that Merlin actually does.

 

 

+

 

 

“Where, exactly, are we going, Lady Vivian?” Arthur asks when they’re on the road (well, overgrown forest path) again.

 

“To the most romantic place in the world,” Lady Vivian replies.

 

Arthur and Merlin exchange a doubtful look. “And where ... is that?”

 

“Wherever you decide you love me, of course. We’ve got time, and I have absolute loads of energy! I do love a brisk stride across a vast expanse of land, don’t you?”

 

_NO,_ Merlin mouths emphatically, making Arthur glare at him.

 

“Lady Vivian,” Arthur says, “I fear you’re in for a grave disappointment.”

 

“You’ll be in for a grave in general if you keep talking like that.”

 

Arthur makes a face. “Did you just threaten to kill me?”

 

“Maybe a little bit,” Lady Vivian says tranquilly.

 

“What kind of wooing is that?”

 

“The confident kind. I know you’ll love me sooner or later, because if you don’t, life will become so unmanageably wretched that I’ll give up on it altogether.” For just a moment, Vivian’s face turns wan and sad; she looks impossibly old, as if she’d spent a century with no company save for her own despair. But then it passes and she brightens again. “But I know that won’t happen. Do keep up, boys!”

 

 

+

 

 

“Love spells are a very nasty business, aren’t they?” Arthur says glumly awhile later as they trudge on.

 

Merlin replies, “They’re not all hearts and flowers, that’s for sure.”

 

“When Guinevere kissed me, that snapped me out of it.”

 

“True love’s kiss.”

 

“True love,” Arthur muses softly.

 

“Uh oh,” says Merlin.

 

Arthur looks thoughtful for a moment before clearing his throat and approaching Lady Vivian. No good can come of this. Merlin tries to say _No, wait, stop it, come back, what do you think you’re doing, she’s going to snap you in half like a twig, you prat!!!!_ with his eyes. It doesn’t appear to work.

 

 “Lady Vivian,” Arthur is saying in his most chivalrous tones, “honored though I am by your attention and your incredible devotion, I simply cannot return your feelings.”

 

“Oh really?” Vivian puts her hands on her hips. “And why not?”

 

“I’m afraid ...” Arthur pauses and takes a deep breath. _STOP,_ Merlin wills him, but before he has time to magic the situation better, Arthur has already declared, “I love another.”

 

“ _ANOTHER??_ ” Vivian shrieks.

 

Merlin’s not sure if anything else has ever been quite so loud. Dragons included.

 

“But you can’t! It’s impossible! Who is she? I’ll pop her eyes out! There’s no way they sparkle as brightly as mine do. And her hair! What sort of hair has she got? Out with it, then! It doesn’t matter, in fact: I’ll pull _that_ out too! If you think there is another girl in all the world who could rival me, Arthur Pendragon, then you’re sorely mistaken—”

 

“I don’t think that any girl could rival you,” Arthur interrupts placatingly. Merlin can tell he’s nervous.

 

“Oh don’t you?”

 

“You see, the ... person I love ...” For a moment, Arthur gets a look on his face that convinces Merlin he’s about to vomit. He doesn’t, though. Instead, what he does is finish that sentence with the words: “... is Merlin.”

 

Merlin has no idea what to do with that.

 

So he just stares, mostly.

 

Arthur stares back at him, his expression an odd mix of almost-convincing _OH MY ONE TRUE LOVE_ and much more believable _PLAY ALONG, YOU IDIOT._

Vivian’s gaze whirls around to Merlin. Merlin tries to look like the object of Arthur’s affection. He quickly concludes that really, he doesn’t know how Gwen does it.

 

“Merlin?” Vivian says at last. “ _That_ Merlin?”

 

“That very Merlin,” Arthur confirms sorrowfully.

 

“But he’s so – so _Merlin_!” Vivian starts laughing. “Arthur, are you serious?”

 

“Alas, I am. I know he’s not much to look at – believe me.” Arthur has to raise his voice over Vivian’s shrieks of laughter.

 

“Hey!” Merlin says.

 

“But his loyalty and devotion,” Arthur bellows on over Vivian’s cackling, “won my heart long ago. And I must remain true to my love for him, Lady Vivian, for it is as steadfast as your love for me.”

 

Lady Vivian stops laughing (after awhile, at least), and seems to consider Arthur’s words. While she does, Merlin waits for her to kill and possibly eat both him and Arthur. And tries not to think too much about loyalty and devotion, because that’s just veering dangerously close to the truth.

 

And then  very abruptly: “Well, that’s all right, then.”

 

“What?” Merlin says, dumbfounded.

 

“He’s not exactly _competition_ , now is he?” Vivian says, throwing a disdainful glance Merlin’s way. “Like you said. _Look_ at him.”

 

“Hey!” Merlin reiterates. It really doesn’t seem to have hit home the first time.

 

“His ears – they’re just so—”

 

“I know,” Arthur says.

 

“And his hair can’t even begin to compare to mine!”

 

“There’s no denying that,” Arthur says.

 

“And really, Merlin. What’s with the scarf?” Vivian wrinkles her nose. “Is your neck _that_ cold?”

 

“Haha! Good one!” Arthur says. He actually looks genuinely delighted for a moment. Then he remembers that he’s being tugged around on a rope by a love spell-addled super princess.

 

“And what about you, then?” Vivian asks Merlin briskly. “Do you love him too?”

 

Merlin bursts into an uncontrollable coughing fit. There’s really nothing else that can be done.

 

Arthur glares daggers at him. No, make that swords.

 

“Um,” Merlin finally manages to choke out. “Yes. Of course. Absolutely. Takes my breath away, really.”

 

“You love him,” Vivian says doubtfully.

 

Merlin forces himself to look at Arthur.

 

“I ... love him,” Merlin says.

 

Arthur smirks at Merlin and bounces a triumphant little bounce. It’s really the height of Prince Prat behavior.

 

“Fine,” Vivian says. “I do love a good competition. Not,” she adds, throwing a significant glance at Merlin’s neck scarf, “that this _is_ one.”

 

“A competition?”

 

“I think I’ll very much enjoy wooing you away from your big-eared servant love,” Vivian declares, grinning radiantly and a bit naughtily at Arthur.

 

“Oh, but ... you can’t, you see.” Arthur throws an arm over Merlin’s shoulders. Or, well, tries to. Then he remembers that his wrists are bound. Instead, he settles for walloping Merlin’s shoulder with his fists in what Merlin guesses is an affectionate gesture. “You see, ours is a true love. Isn’t it, Merlin?”

 

“Oh, uh,” Merlin says. Arthur stomps on his foot. It’s very inspiring. “Yep. The truest, really.”

 

“There’s no force on earth that can stop this love,” Arthur continues in booming tones.

 

“I can,” Vivian wastes no time in replying.

 

Arthur looks annoyed. “You cannot! Didn’t I just tell you that nothing could stop it?”

 

“Nothing _else_ , maybe,” Vivian says. “But I’m exceptional, and really very determined. Your heart will be mine, Arthur Pendragon, even if I have to dirty my nails plucking it out of your chest.”

 

“That’s not at all charming,” Arthur says sternly. “That’s just morbid. There, you see: Merlin would never say anything like that.”

 

“He wouldn’t,” Vivian says; she looks rather pensive, like she’d jot down notes if she wasn’t out in the middle of the forest dragging two grown men around.

 

“My nails are usually dirty anyway,” Merlin explains.

 

Arthur glares at him.

 

“... and I would never pluck Arthur’s heart out,” he adds quickly. “That would be a very lousy way to treat your true love.”

 

“Well, aren’t you high and mighty!” Vivian sniffs. “For now.”

 

“For always,” Merlin retorts. “Because that’s how long our true love will last.”

 

“Damned right you are, Merlin,” Arthur says, then pats him awkwardly on the shoulder with his bound hands again.

 

Vivian makes a face at them. “Make no mistake, Arthur: you’ll still be mine one day soon. But ...” She pauses for a moment, then adds, more earnestly, “I understand how things like loyalty and devotion can make one believe they’re in love.”

 

“Indeed,” Arthur says, casting an uncomfortable glance Merlin’s way. “And ... had you ever felt such loyalty and devotion before we met, Lady Vivian?”

 

Ah. So there’s the point, then: Vivian’s true love. It took Arthur bloody long enough to get there. And at a seriously humiliating cost.

 

Vivian looks lost in thought. “Why, do you know, back before I met you and discovered what _true_ love is, I had very similar feelings for ...” She stops abruptly. “But never mind it. That’s all in the past now.”

 

“We love the past,” Merlin says. “Please, tell us more about it.”

 

“Subtle,” Arthur mutters.

 

“Thank you, darling,” Merlin mutters back pointedly. Arthur grimaces.

 

“Indeed I won’t!” Vivian says. She tugs on the rope that binds them. “Now come on. Let’s see if we can cross paths with some foul wild beastie. Nothing gets one’s heart racing like a brush with death! Remember the tournament you fought in our brief few days together, my sweet?”

 

“Not really,” Arthur says. “My brain’s mostly full of thoughts of Merlin.”

 

Merlin tries to look like the stuff daydreams are made of.

 

Vivian isn’t too threatened.

 

“Don’t worry,” she says, prancing over and putting a finger beneath Arthur’s chin. “I’ll remind you of the delicious time we spent together. In bed. Snogging.”

 

“No big deal,” Merlin says nonchalantly. “I snog him in his bed all the time.”

 

“Yes,” Arthur says, not quite managing to keep the strain out of his voice. “He does.”

 

Vivian shrugs. “He did,” she corrects cheerily, then skips onward.

 

“If I have to really snog you, I want a pay raise,” Merlin mutters.

 

“If you have to really snog me, you’ll have to find another prince to serve, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur replies, “because I’ll have thrown myself off the nearest bridge.”

 

“Good to see you’re keeping things in perspective,” says Merlin.

 

And Vivian drags them along.

 


End file.
